


And So It Goes...

by anxious_fangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Angel Radio, Anxiety, Arthritis, But also A little shit, Caring Dean Winchester, Castiel Heals, Castiel is a Little Shit, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean is a Little Shit, Demigods, Demons, Depression, Fluff, Gabriel is a Good Friend, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hearing Voices, Memories, Nephilim, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Panic Attacks, Sam is a Sweetheart, Visions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5355467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxious_fangirl/pseuds/anxious_fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wakes up in a motel room, but it's just a normal day right? Wrong. She doesn't remember any of the three men she is with...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS THE FIRST STORY I HAVE EVER WRITTEN AND POSTED, SO PLEASE BE NICE AND I HONESTLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Very slow, but gradual build*
> 
> *Will try to update as often as possible*
> 
>  
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

The first thing that registered? Darkness. But soon the chilling-bone-shivering feeling came, and it was just too cold to stand. Deep down, as a gut-feeling, I knew I have dealt with many long winters, but this was nothing like that.

The cold seeped into my soul; my lungs were burning and made breathing difficult; I didn't know how I was still alive. I couldn't really feel much; it felt like I was floating in some kind of dimension, with no where to go and nothing to see...

The last thing I remembered? I don't know...  
I think there were voices, trying to pull me back to reality, but the darkness seemed to pull harder on my consciousness--I couldn't tell what was real and what was fictional.

Was this all just another stupid dream of mine? Or was this a nightmare? Maybe it's really happening. Maybe I'm slowly dying from the cold. Maybe I don't even exist...

I just need to find my way out of here--wherever "here" is; I can't see anything, I can't feel anything, so my plan to escape from this "whatever", will have to--.

Wait. There are the voices again. And was that music playing somewhere off in the distance of my mind? Wait. My memories...were they memories or just parts of nightmares?

There were strings of people, but when they looked up, their eyes were completely black.

There were wooden crosses with chalices of wine and water below them.

And a gun, coated in silver plating with symbols and initials carved into the butt-end.

And strange symbols that burned into my eyes, radiating bright reds and blues and whites, making me dizzy.

Then it all stopped--for a short while.

There was laughter that came deep from the soul and heart and it made everything tinge a bright white, which only became brighter and brighter until it was nearly unbearable. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Updating the chapters as I'm going along*
> 
> *Please bear with me :D *
> 
>  
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

I startled awake, with no recollection of anything; I put my head in my hands and tried to think--tried to remember of anything that would be useful, but I couldn't even remember who I was.

I remembered I was having a dream, or a nightmare of sorts, and maybe there were voices, and then there were these flashes of pictures. What were they again? Strange symbols? And black eyes? What in the world was going on. 

"Hey, you alright? Bad dream again?", a male's voice asked me.

My head sprang up and I immediately went into panic mode. For the first rime, I noticed there were two other men in this motel room--wait? Motel room? 

Who were these strange people? One was built like a skyscraper, towering over 6 foot and maybe a half, with long brown hair and hazel eyes; he stood next to, what I would guess be his brother or some form of acquaintance considering his body language towards him.

His brother, or whoever he was, the one that had asked me the questions, was seated at the table in the far left corner in the kitchen area; he had dirty blond hair and the greenest eyes I ever did see; in his left hand he held a beer bottle--so did his brother--and in the other hand a pen, which was scribbling down words before I had startled awake. They both looked at me with worried eyes, filled with caring.

I looked around me and at the old, flaking wallpapers and the duffel bags next to the other bed and the pull-out bed, both to my right, and then looked back at the two men, slowly shaking my head and pulling up the covers, which were tangled around my legs.

"Who are you?", I asked in a frightened tone, unable to keep my confidence or shakiness under control. I silently cursed myself for being so weak.

From their expressions, at first they didn't believe me and chuckled, but then their faces softened into complete worry; they almost looked scared.

The big one set down his beer and walked over to me; he seemed intimidating considering his size, plus, not to mention, I didn't know who these men were, which made me even more afraid for my life. As he got closer, I only pulled the covers tighter around me.

"Please don't hurt me. I don't know who you are, or who he is," I motioned to the one still seated at the table,"and I don't know who I am. Just please don't hurt me."

He put his hands out in mock-surrender; a friendly gesture to make me trust him, although I still didn't.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not here to hurt you, and neither is he. But you don't remember who you are? Or who we are?"

"No...no, I don't know...", I said, wiping away a tear that had escaped my eye.

He looked over his shoulder at his brother, who just shrugged his shoulders in response and set down his beer on the table, slowly making his way over, and also putting his hands up in surrender.

"Looks like we have some talking to do, huh?", green eyes said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

The six-foot-everything guy, started to walk over to the edge of the bed I was occupying, with his hands still up in surrender. His brother followed suit, but stayed by the foot-end of the bed, looking down at me with those emerald-green eyes of his; he looked like he had been to hell and back again; he had eyes that told stories without the need of words.

"Hey," emerald-eyes said, snapping me back to attention, "I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam. You are (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). We've known each other for over 5 years, and we've been hunting monsters together. We've been on a case for a week now, hunting vamps and a couple of rogue witches. Anything ringing a bell in that head of yours?"

You stared back, unsure of how to comprehend what he just said--that is, whatever he just said; my headache I had woken up with started to hurt more, but it was still bearable. I continued to them between them both, pushing back the pain. 

The moose of the two--sorry--Sam looked over at his brother with an annoyed look on his face, as if to tell him to have a little more understanding.

"Dean, be nice. We'll figure out what's going on," he turned back to me and said, "Why don't you go shower, and we'll head out to lunch, m'okay? Take all of the time you need."

I slowly nodded in understanding as Sam and Dean left to go back to the kitchen to continue whatever they were doing before. I started to remove the covers from my body, when I noticed I was barely wearing anything in the first place.

My shorts barely even covered my lady area and my tank top showed a little too much than what I cared to show. I sighed softly and looked for what would be my clothes. I reached over and drew a duffel bag closer to me which was sitting just a few inches away from the foot-end of the bed, and scavenged for something decent to wear without looking so "sluty".

I finally settled on a pair of dark blue jeans that looked like they would hug my curves just right and a black and red ombre top with song lyrics printed on it. I grabbed the other necessities in getting dressed for the day, and almost-ran/jogged to the bathroom, quickly closing the door behind me, and sighing again, closing my eyes as I slid down the door.

* * *

Dean, with a beer in hand like always, looked across the table at his brother once (Y/N) went into the bathroom, "So what the hell man?"

Sam looked up at him, first confused with his eyebrows scrunched up, but then it dawned on him, "I don't know Dean. Amnesia happens," he looked back down at his laptop, "She probably hit her head when we half-attempted at raiding that nest last night. I'm sure she'll be fine in a few days."

Dean looked down at the table and slowly nodded, "Maybe you're right...But maybe you're wrong" he added, as he took a swig of his beer and almost missed the bitch-face Sam gave him as he looked at his brother; shaking his head, he looked back down at his laptop and sighed.

"Maybe we should call Bobby, he might know what to do, right? At least have a few ideas?", he said in a tired tone from researching for so long.

Dean looked over at his brother, "Yeah, guess we could. I'll call him tonight or something."

A small silence settled between them as Dean continued drinking his beer, which was almost gone at this point, and Sam continuously typing and clicking on his laptop, mind in deep thought.

"It just doesn't make sense, you know?", Sam said, breaking the silence,"Just, out of the blue, she had amnesia all of the sudden?"

Dean only nodded," Yeah, strange man, I know," then frowned.

"Hey," he said to Sam, who looked up at him, annoyed again for being interrupted in his research, "Witches, right?"

Sam only looked at him with confusion and shrugged his shoulders. "What do you mean?"

Dean rolled his eyes, but continued on anyways. "Can't they do all sorts of spells and stuff? What if one of our rogue witches was at that nest last night, and (Y/N) got attacked?"

"Wouldn't she have told us last night then? That she got hit with a spell or something?"

"Well maybe she didn't notice or didn't want us to worry."

"Yeah, but now we're worried out of our minds, Dean."

Dean nodded in reply as he finished off his 2nd beer of the day, considering it was still so early in the day.

"Hey," he called to Sam again,"Do you hear the water running? She's been in there, what", he looked up at the clock,"several minutes."

They both got up at the same time, but Sam was the first one to knock on the door, only to receive silence as an answer.

"(Y/N)? Everything okay?", Sam asked while knocking again.

Dean pushed Sam out of the way and banged harder on the door. "(Y/N)? Open the door, or we're coming in."

They stood in silence for about a minute, that is, until Dean kicked down the door.

* * *

I set down my clothes on the counter top of the sink in the bathroom once I was able to pick myself off of the floor. I sighed as the headache I had woken up with had only gotten stronger. I leaned my hands on the counter and looked at myself in the mirror, for what felt like the first time.

I had (long/short) (Y/H/C) that framed my face so well. My (Y/E/C) eyes stood out the most and almost made me look mysterious and intimidating to strangers--and myself; humorous, I was scared of myself.

I looked at the rest of my face, ears, nose, etcetera, not beliving that I had just woken up in a strange motel room, with two strange men, and not even knowing who I was. I sighed again.

I looked down at my body and examined myself again. I had light-brown specks of freckles dotting my arms and legs. My stomach wasn't exactly flat, but it transitioned so well from my chest into my hips. And--oh wow, my thighs were freaking logs; how I was going to squeeze these things into these jeans? I had no clue. My feet were small with the nails of my toes painted really lightly with white. I felt a little normal because of that, and a small laugh escaped my lips.

My headache seemed to be splitting my skull in half at this point and I had to sit down on the edge of the bathtub. Unfortunately, I missed the edge and all of my weight landed on my legs as they bent and folded underneath me. I held my head in my heads as the headache only kicked up higher and higher and my ears started to ring from all of the pain.

I closed my eyes tight and fought back the urges to scream and covered my ears. I drew my hands back when I felt something wet, I looked down and--wow, blood.

My chest was closing up and it hurt to breathe--when I could breathe. My head smacked the floor, which kicked up the pain even more. I just laid on the ground, weak and hurting everywhere, when everything faded to black.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait, but I've been working on my other story at the same time
> 
>  
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

The door forcefully swung open and smacked the wall, vibrating throughout the entire room; I hadn't heard anyone at the door--probably because I was taking a little 'siesta' for a few minutes.

I was starting to come to as the pounding in my head started to go away, but there was still blood surrounding me in a dark, red puddle around my head.

Dean and Sam--I'm at least pretty sure that's who they were, because I could only make out the fuzzy images of two male forms standing at the door--suddenly rushed forward as if being zapped and kneeled down next to me.

Dean slowly lifted my head, assessing my apparent injury and Sam ran back into the room to grab the first aid kit from one of the duffels--I'm at least pretty sure that's what he was doing...

"Oh baby girl. What happened?" Dean asked me softly as he started to wipe-up my blood with the towel I was going to use after my shower; Sam then showed-up with the kit, kneeling down by me again.

I tried to form any word that came to my mind, tried to mumble or groan from the pain, but not a sound escaped my lips--my mouth moved with no sounds exiting. Luckily--somewhere deep in the pits of my brain, which hasn't been working correctly for some unknown reason--I knew sign language; I could only hope one of the boys knew it too.

I slowly lifted up my right hand, putting my elbow on the floor beneath me to stabilize my hand as I signed the words "I can't talk" "and I don't know what happened" over and over again. Dean stared, completely confused, but Sam seemed to understand some of it.

"Can't. Talk. And. Don't...Something. What. Happen. You can't talk and you don't know what happened? Right?"

I closed my eyes, feeling tired and completely drained as I moved my wrist up and down signaling "yes".

"Uh-uh-uh baby girl. You gotta keep those eyes open. Ya' hear me?" Dean said, in an almost scared tone.

My eyes fluttered open for a few seconds as I stared up into the greenest eyes I have ever seen, and catching a glimpse of the hazel eyes belonging to Sam. But then I couldn't hold them open any more, letting them close back-up; I also dropped my arm because I was just too tired.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)!" Dean shouted, immediately checking for my beating pulse; I could hear Sammy--wait...that's his nickname, right? Little Sammy, the moose, the sasquatch, the college boy...

My eyes shot open and I sat up, alarming both of the boys; Dean pulled me into his lap to rest against his chest, but I fought back with renewed strength. They both put their hands up in defeat as I scooted up against the wall away from them.

"What. The. Hell. Just. Happened..." I managed to breath out, combing a shaky hand through my now tangled and bloodied hair.

"I--," I looked up at both of them, unsure of how to form my words, "I remembered Sam's nicknames...and then, I was completely fine. Does that--that have to do with anything? Does that give us a clue or-or, help us out in some way?"

Dean and Sam looked at each other, having a silent conversation.

Dean turned towards me, saying with a smirk, "Guess we have to take a stroll down memory lane, huh?"

* * *

We were sitting on the giant pull-out bed, which used to be the couch. Sam had been occupying it for the past number of nights apparently. As I leaned up against the back of the couch, holding a pillow on my lap, Dean and Sam sat at the foot-end, taking turns talking. Eventually, from boredom and, well, mostly boredom, I cut them short, even putting up a hand to stop them from continuing.

"Look, guys. I don't know if this is really helping. I was the one that remembered the nicknames without any help, so I'm pretty sure that I have to do this on my own--somehow. I mean, sure, tell me all of the stories you want, but I need to remember them for myself."

"Alright, so anything working?", Dean asked, "My-God-this-seems-familiar vibe? Anything?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head. As if on cue, the ringing in my ears started up again--ringing. Ringing? Why did that sound familiar? I concentrated in deep thought, frowning--.

"Hey," Sam spoke up, pulling me out of my own little bubble I had going on, "You okay?"

"Yeah--I guess." I let out a small laugh to justify it.

"Well, it's almost noon," Dean said as he got off of the bed and Sam started to follow, "Why don't we go get some burgers or pizza? Get some pie? Maybe get..." 

I had stopped listening once he said "pizza", and I finally succeeded at tuning him out completely. Pizza. Ringing. Wings. Wait? Wings...?

"Angels!" I shouted as my eyes snapped back open.

I was breathing heavily as Sam and Dean rushed back over, with Dean putting a hand on my shoulder to steady myself. I stated laughing with my eyes now closed as I remembered one particular angel and all of his classic quotes from over the years.

"Cas," I whispered with a smile on my face.

I frowned.

"And...Gabriel. What is it? Balthazar? Yeah. And Luci, can't forget about Luci," I paused, trying to remember more," Uriel. Samandriel. Michael. Zacariah--pretty sure he was a dick."

I frowned again, still with my eyes closed.

"Dick..Roman? And the--what were they called? Started with a...," I paused, "L? Le...Levia...Leviathan? Sure, we'll go with it," I let out a small laugh and heard Sam and Dean chuckle too.

I opened my eyes to see three pairs of smiles looking down at me. Three!?

I jumped with wide eyes as I looked at the new man standing at the foot-end of the bed, wearing a trenchcoat, fitted suit, and a crooked tie.

I focused on his facial features, trying to figure out who he was. He had the bluest eyes--squinty eyes too--, scruffy/shaggy brown hair, a little bit of stubble, and the soul that radiated two sides of him: the puppies and kittens side, and the piss-me-off-you-die side.

"You're him...I'm guessing. With the whole pizza man dealy-o. And rebelling Heaven's orders. You're Castiel."

"Hello (Y/N)"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's short [maybe it's not], but I type these up at the most inconvenient of times 
> 
>  
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

Cas looked over to Sam and Dean, saying in his deep voice, "I came as soon as you called. I would have been here earlier but, things upstairs have been--off. Now what seems to be the problem?"

All three sets of eyes turned and looked at me, expecting me to answer, as if I clearly and fully knew what had happened to me.

"Oh yes," I said to Cas with a straight face," It seems that I have an extra toe or two growing off of my right foot, and there are these strange things coming from my--," I threw my hands up in the air, growling, "For fucks sakes guys! I don't know what happened!"

Sam smirked at my sarcasm, while Dean stood in shock with a little smirk, and Cas had his eyes squinted and head slightly tilted in complete confusion--like usual.

Suddenly, Cas stood in front of me and placed two fingers on my head without warning.

Hundreds, thousands, millions of images and memories flew past my eyes, making me dizzy. I could pick out a few--me hunting a creature in a cave, Dean and Sam doing their stupid but famous and humorous Prank Wars, chowing down on breakfast at a little dinner in some small town, hundreds of smiles, and I could hear so much laughter, but feel so much pain...

Pictures of seeing my friends' corpses around me, Dean and Sam bleeding and close to dying on so many occasions, my sister's body torn to pieces, my brothers house burned to the ground with him and his family inside, so many gunshots, stab wounds, burn marks, memories--so many memories that I didn't want to reflect on, but was forced to...

My own time I spent in Hell, with fire, and pain, and screams. The burning and tearing of flesh, feeling the wooziness from loss of blood, different tortures evertime you came back to life to relive another hell--

And that's when I pull out of my head and Cas is no longer touching my forehead, but looking down at me to see my reaction--Sam and Dean are doing the same as they are standing next to Castiel.

I can't stop the tears from collecting in my eyes and slowly making tiny trails down, to drop onto the pillow I'm clutching on my lap. I put my head down, knowing everything that I have forgotten had too much pain than I had enjoyed in remembering. I cried silently, feeling the bed beneath me shifted as a body--no, two bodies--sat down next to me.

A warm hand was on my left shoulder--where Sam was sitting--and I believe I was being hugged by Dean, feeling his heart beating in his chest, the warmth that radiated off of him, and also the fact that he was slowly rocking back and forth in an attempt to comfort me--it was all indeed, comforting.

I sniffed and buried my head into his chest, clutching onto him as if either him or I were going to dissolve away from existence. The hand from my shoulder had been removed, and now I could snuggle up closer to Dean, where I felt safe; the pillow hit the floor, which made me slighlty jump from the unexpected sound and the built-up stress that had my nerves on-edge.

"Hey," Sam piped-up," Why don't Cas and I go get us something to eat, huh? We'll be back in a little bit, 'kay? Dean--Keys?", Sam asked as he got up from the pulled and pulled Cas with him to the door.

"Should be on the ta--"

"Got 'em," Sam replied, wagging the keys in his hand, pushing Cas out the door, following him, and quietly shutting the door behind him.

I was still softly crying, trying so hard to stop, but it was just too much--all of this was just too much.

"It's okay, baby girl," Dean said while rocking me," Shhhhh, it's okay, I've got you. Why don't we find scenting to watch on the TV, huh? How about that? And then we can get comfortable until the boys get back--How's that sound?"

I nodded my head in response, knowing that if I tried to speak, my mouth wouldn't want to form words.

Dean slowly released me from his giant bear hug to grab the remotes to the TV, which were sitting on the nights and by his bed. I got up and walked into the bathroom, feeling like my knees were silently screaming in pain.

Once I was finally able to leave the bathroom looking somewhat decent, I walked back out, seeing that Dean was now occupying his bed. At first, I thought he didn't want to--what's an appropriate word?--'chill'/snuggle/comfort me, but then he smiled and patted next to him, signaling that I could.

I limped as fast as my little legs--Limp? I have a limp?

"What?", Dean asked; I hadn't realized I said it out loud.

I looked at him as he looked at me, then I looked down at my knees, remembering the pain that had vanished a few minutes ago.

I looked back up at him, asking rapidly, "I walk with a limp-I'm pretty positive I was just limping-Dean, do I have arthritis?"

"Well," he said looking at me, "You've never mentioned it before. Maybe you got hurt from last night--"

"No," I cut him off in all seriousness, "I know-I can feel it, that, I have had this for awhile now. It feels like--years."

He stared at me, almost as if trying to figure me out, trying to understand the secrets I've never told him, wondering what else I've never told him.

"It's just a--an educated guess. A deep feeling. But I'm sure I've had it since middle school or something..."

I trailed off, staring at my feet, then snapping my eyes back up at him, frowning.

"Wait? You never noticed?", I walked over to him," I never told you?"

He shook his head, staring at me, "You must have hid it pretty good for so long...Do you-take medications for it-or something?"

I slowly shook my head, "I--I don't know. I'll have to look through my duffel."

Dean was about to reply when the door opened, bringing in the smell of greasy food. Sam held open the door as the angel carried in our take-out, and then closed it, locking it.

Sam could immediately tell that something was up, while Cas was too busy setting out our seperate food preferences.

"What'd we miss?" Sam asked in mild confusion.

I looked back down at Dean and sighed, making my limping way over to the angel.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *  
> I will try to update this one more often, seeing as it's more popular than my other one


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't had good service connection for a few days, but the Wi-Fi should be up and running tomorrow afternoon
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*

"What's wrong with you," Sam asked, immediately pointing out my strange limp.

Cas turned around from placing our fast food on the table, looking confused, and it almost looked like he was attempting to scanning me.

I was about to reply when Cas beat me to it.

"It seems she has arthritis in both of her knees. She's had it for," he paused, looking at me with those squinty eyes," well, she's 25, so, about 10 years. She's takes," he paused again, squinting," five different medications for it. Why am I now discovering this about you? Have you been warding yourself from me? Is that why you always insist on letting your wounds scar? Why would you rather live with this than to let me heal you?"

All three of the men in the room stared at me, as I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and my heart start to pound.

How am I supposed to know?

I feel dizzy.

I woke up with no memory, but yet they're pressuring me for questions?

I feel the splitting headache coming back.

Why would the real me rather live with the constant pain, than to have Cas heal me?

The room started to spin.

Suddenly the floor is coming closer, and hands are grabbing for me, when I fall unconscious.

* * *

It's spring.

I know because I remember this exact date.

May 28, 2005.

Two months before my birthday.

The day I would be handicap forever.

Cursed forever.

It was one of my first hunts, before I had met the Winchesters. I know that I was only 15, but I grew up into this life, so age didn't mean much during that time.

My dad and I had been hunting this witch, who wasn't a witch at all, but some type of mythical goddess of some sort...I don't remember who she was.

But my dad and I were in the woods, tracking her down, when my dad got zapped somewhere far away and I was left alone to fend for myself.

The woman had told me that my father had killed her offspring and that she was going to do the same to me. My mother, however, had followed along on the hunt, and was able to distract the "witch", causing her to mess-up on her spell.

I ended up in the hospital because the pain was so great and because I had joint and muscle pains all over. Over time and many, many years later, the things I was left with were the arthritis in my knees, both double-jointed shoulders which pop very often from small movement, bad hips, and an always sore back.

The "witch's" spell had various loop-holes, which is why I was able to recover in some areas, but not others. My parents were always on my ass to take my meds, and also recruited the help of various--oh, what are they called?--Nice witches? to give me concoctions to ease the pains.

I was told that no angel or mix of herbs could heal me, because that was God's job, or His will, or whatever. I was never warded, never chanting spells, never trying to take away my pains because I couldn't.

I was cursed.

And always will be cursed.

Until the day I die.

* * *

I shot up and out of the bed I was laying on, running into the bathroom, feeling my stomach started to turn and twist. Sam and Dean, who had been on the couch watching TV, were now following me into the bathroom as I was hurling up an empty stomach, plus blood.

Luckily, my hair was already tied back, so I grabbed onto the toilet on both sides and hugged it, closing my eyes. I could feel a hand rubbing slow circles on my back and that slowly calmed my stomach down.

The ticking of the clock didn't help much, but I listened to it as it told me seconds and soon minutes were passing.

I was able to release my deathly grip on the toilet to lean up against the wall, breathing shallow with my eyes halfway closed.

Sam sat down next to me as Dean went back out into the room and sat down on the couch again, as if he never left his seat.

"You okay? I mean...you've been fine...", Sam trailed off.

I didn't reply--I couldn't reply, in fear that I might cough up nothing, but just blood.

I leaned up against Sam, feeling him wrap his arm around me, letting me scoot in closer.

And that's how I fell asleep: Sitting on the cold, tile floor of the bathroom, leaning up against the sasquatch.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's short, but I'll try to update it tomorrow if possible...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally have connection to start posting again :)
> 
>  
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*
> 
> *

I slowly started to wake up, feeling the starched cloth of motel sheets wrapped around me in bundles. I sighed and rolled over onto my left side, feeling the pain in my knees spike-up. I silently groaned, knowing that I would have to sneak my pills out from my duffel bag, out from under the close and watchful eyes of the moose, squirrel, and the bird.

I slowly peeled open my eyes, looking around me, not remembering going to sleep in this motel. We were in Washington, or something, and then we were headed somewhere and then it gets a little fuzzy...? Maybe we went out to a bar and I got a little hung-up..?

I rolled back over to check the time on the clock; 2 AM; Great.

I noticed that the TV was still on, with Sam fast asleep on the pull-out bed. I looked over and Dean was out like a light too. Maybe we all got a little hung-over together...? Hey, as long as it was a good night, who cares, I'm sure we deserved it.

I quietly started to get out of bed to grab my pills, so I wouldn't disturb the sleeping beauties next to me. I tiptoed over to the kitchen table where my duffel was set, and I quickly scoured through pocket after pocket until I remembered they were in my secret compartment on the side. I ripped it open, grabbing one of my pill bottles, popping it open, and quickly chucked a pill down my throw without the help of water or alcohol. I placed the bottle back in its cubby and quietly made my way back to bed.

As I turned around, Dean was readjusting in his bed, so I made my way back to my bed so he wouldn't notice I had gotten up in the very early morning. I crawled back under the covers, feeling the warmth returning to my now cold body, and I softly moaned, feeling the complete comfort and safety of it all.

Sam loudly moved around on his pull-out bed, dragging his covers this way and that, tangling himself in his sheets, and frizzing his hair into a mess.

I stared up at the ceiling, unsure of what to do, considering I was wide awake now. I rolled back onto my side, already feeling my pain meds kick-in to lessen the constant pain of arthritis.

I must have fallen back to sleep at some point once the pain started to go away and the major side effect of my meds hit me, and I swore I saw a shadow standing in the kitchen when I fell back asleep.

* * *

I woke up to Sam, Dean, and Cas talking loudly in the kitchen area, going back and forth about soemthing, but I was on that fine line of consciousness and sleep, so nothing was really processing.

"She's awake," Is all I heard, as Cas called it out.

Immediately, three sets of eyes were on me as they came around on both sides of my bed. I sat up, confused and a little alarmed as to why they were acting this way. Maybe I was being really foolish last night from drinking? Maybe I damaged soemthing? Oh no, did I hurt Baby? I swallowed, hoping that wasn't the case here.

Sam's arms were crossed across his chest as he stared down at me, as did Dean and Cas. Personally, they didn't scare me much, considering everything that we've hunted and everything we've been through; this should be a simple walk in the park...Hopefully.

"So," Dean started, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over us, "How are you feeling?:

I held my tingue, unsure on whether to ask if we went out drinking last night, because maybe I snuck out and dragged my own ass here? Or maybe he caught me taking my meds earlier this morning? Either way--or any way--I was very confused.

"Well?", Sam asked, with his eyebrows scrunched up.

"I--I don't know what you're trying to ask me...?" I said, unsure.

"It's just a basic question," Dean said.

My lord, if looks could kill, my ass would already be in Hell.

"I don't know. Fine, I guess." I said with one eyebrow raised in confusion again.

As the silence still hung in the air, I spoke up, "Well, y'all are being creepy and I could use a bath, so, outta the way boys. Please," I added at the end, hoping they would let me collect myself within the hour.

I was able to pass Dean and Cas to reach my duffel which was still resting on the table. I grabbed my usual attire when I planned on staying in for the day: sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I grabbed my other lady necessities and headed towards the bathroom, feeling their stares bore into the back of my head. I quickly whipped around and threw my stuff on the floor, completely pissed-off.

"Look," I said with both hands on my hips, "If y'all want to stare, go ahead, but seriously, take a picture because it lasts longer, ya pervs. I though I taught you boys respect?"

We stared as the clock kept on ticking, timing seconds and the minutes passing between all of us. Suddenly, Dean strided towards me and hugged me with all of his might, burying his head in the crook of my neck, and I stood there, unsure of how to react. Was I gone for a long time?

"Yes, you were. Too damn long," Dean said; I hadn't even noticed I had said it out loud.

Sam and Cas slowly approached me as Dean retracted himself from me, wearing different looks of suprise, happiness, and complete confusion--glad we could be in the same boat, boys.

Sam frowned, and asked, "What do you remember?"

I thought long and hard until I replied, saying, "The hunt in Washington, there were some--whatevers--over there, and then we headed south or something..." I trailed off as I saw the seperate looks all three of them were giving me.

Unable to take it anymore, I half-shouted, "What?"

All three of them flinched and I immediately took that as a bad sign. The tension in the room gathered higher and higher, and finally Cas, the brave little soldier, spoke up.

"That hunt was over four months ago, (Y/N). You got amnesia after that hunt...Since then, you've been learning how to hunt, and we've been patiently waiting for you to remember your past. But now you don't remember the numerous days and weeks you missed..."

"We tried to help you remember," Dean said, unable to meet my eyes," But then you got so sick and Cas couldn't help you. You started to get better a couple of days ago, and I guess this," he gestured to me, finally looking at me," is why--because you were getting your memories back."

"Woah, okay, hold up, guys, hold up," I said, closing my eyes and putting my hands up in front of me, "You're meaning to tell me that I forgot my past four months ago, and now I have my memories back except for those four months? Oh no, no, no. What the hell even?"

"Why don't we sit down," Sam suggested, "and talk about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's short but it takes me over an hour to type these up and post them, and I usually do it really late at night :/


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait :D
> 
> But, finally, here is the new update :)

We were in the kitchen of the motel, with Sam, Dean, and I seated at the table, while Cas stood beside the two boys with his arms crossed across his chest, looking--well, he always looks like he's in deep thought.

Sam and Dean took turns, with Cas filling in on minor details, as they tried to recap on the past four months--the past four months I don't remember. They mentioned how I had woken up that one fateful morning, not remembering anything, including my name. Then they continued on, going from day to day, week to week, month to month, but nothing was catching my memory.

I had my elbows on the table, holding my chin in my hands, studying and picking at every word that came from their lips. I sighed multiple times, including rolling my eyes at some of the stories they told me.

Apparently, on one occasion, I shot Cas because he had snuck up behind me while we were in the bunker, trying to do research--luckily, no damage was done, except the holes in his coat and suit. I also apparently spent some time at a casino for a week while the boys were off of a hunt, and made over three grand at the poker table.

"So," Dean said after a while," Anything clicking? Remember anything?"

They stared at me and I stared at them, suppressing the bitch face I felt coming on. I, however, did roll my eyes before replying to him.

"No, nothing," I put my head in my hands, elbows still on the table, covering my eyes and rubbing my head," I don't remember any of that," I put my hands flat on the table, completely exhausted from all of this.

Cas turned his head slightly and squinted his eyes at me--studying me.

"Hey," I said squinting back at him, "Could you stop? It's creepy, Cas."

But he just kept on staring, and even Dean and Sam were getting uncomfortable with the angel.

"Forgive me for being so rude," Cas said, still with his head turned, arms now at his sides, "But, why can I not tell that you have arthritis anymore? Did you ward yourself again? Have you been practicing with witchcraft, (Y/N)?"

Oh no. They knew about that? But how! Cas shouldn't have been able to read me at any point because of my curse. But did that disappear when I lost my memories from so long ago? Did they find my stash of medications in my bag? Did they talk to the me, who was clueless four months ago, about whether or not to discuss private matters with these three hooligans?

I was so caught up in my mind, that I didn't even notice that Dean was trying to get my attention. Sam was standing beside my duffel bag, which was up on the counter, holding my bag of prescribed medication bottles in his hand. Cas was seated beside me, still studying me.

Oh shit, I thought to myself. Oh ahot, here it comes: the big fallout with these three. Prepare for the yelling to begin.

"Hey. Hey," Dean was saying, snapping his fingers in front of me to get my attention, "We need to talk about this," he turned to his brother, "C'mon, bring those here. Sit down."

Sam sat back down at the table with my pill bottles now sitting on the table in front of me. I just wanted to know how they found out...

"Alright. Start talking," Dean said. Jeez, he didn't have to be an ass about it.

"I never wanted you guys to know, okay? You were never supposed to know."

'Well now we know," Sam said, "But tell us why. Why didn't you tell us?"

I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to tell them. But I had to. I knew I had to.

"It was ten years ago. A hunt, before I met you guys. It was supposed to be an easy kill-and-leave, but one thing led to another..." I paused, because I had to share this, aloud, for the first time in my life. Even after ten years, it was still a touchy subject.

Sam and Dean must have noticed the added tension in the room, so they didn't press me, but Cas being Cas, didn't know any better.

"Please, continue. We need to know," Cas said, and both of the boys glared at him. I waved off their looks and continued on.

"I was cursed," I had to stop before a sob escaped my lips, "I could never run, or walk correctly for the rest of my life. I was never really the same since then..." I trailed off and lowered my head, looking down at my hands on the table, unable to meet their eyes.

"But why were you warded against me? I could have healed you, taken away the pain. Why?" Cas pressed at me.

I sighed, not wanting to get into an argument, "I was never warded against you Cas--."

"Then why didn't you let him heal you?", Dean pressed this time.

"Because he couldn't," I slammed my fists on the table and stood up, staring down at all three of them, "Don't you understand what a 'curse' means? It means you can't be fixed. I was even told that no angel, no medications, could heal me. I would love," my voice cracked," to know what it felt like, to not feel the constant pain in my joints. I would love to feel the grass passing beneath my feet and the rush of air whipping in my hair. Don't you dare," my voice cracked again," ever think, that I would choose pain over being happy. Don't you dare, attack me when you don't know the half of it. If you did care about me so much...," I tailed off, shaking my head, unable to finish my sentence in fear that the water in my eyes would start to leave trails down my cheeks. I looked down at the table, and close my eyes--wishing I could disappear for a little bit.

Suddenly, arms are wrapping around me tightly, and I can't keep the tears back anymore, and I sob onto Dean's shirt, holding onto him for dear life. He's rubbing my back in small circles, quietly humming as I become Niagara Falls in the kitchen. Sam and Cas look on from their seats, but soon get up to retire to the beds and couch to turn on the TV.

I can feel the muscles moving under Dean's shirt, and I know that he is now finished in trying to comfort me. I don't want to let go, knowing that he'll just follow in Sam's and Cas' footsteps to the couch. But I let go anyways. He puts both hands on my shoulders, but then tilts my chin up so I can look him in the eyes, and he gives me a weak smile as he pats my shoulders.

"You'll be okay. We'll figure it out, okay? Kay."

He releases his hands and I can already feel the coldness in my heart and soul settle back in as he walks away to join the boys on the couch to watch a football game. And I'm left alone in the kitchen, staring out the window, watching the rain pour down. And I can't help but feel that the Heavens are crying for my broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was depressing :/
> 
> I'll try to update my other two stories later on today, because it's already 12:30 AM
> 
> *PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I HAVE SPELLING MISTAKES OR COULD ADD MORE DETAIL FOR CLARITY IN UNDERSTANDING THE PROGRESSION OF THE STORY*


End file.
